


Broken and Lost Without You

by calie15



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:24:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the night Bucky still suffers. Now, he at least has someone to hold on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken and Lost Without You

Bucky exited the bathroom and flipped the light off only to pause in the doorway and stared at the bed in the darkness. When he had sweating, fear making his body immobile, he left the bed to collect himself. He couldn't stand the thought of laying there arrested by his fear and demons while she was right next to him sleeping innocently. Most of the time she didn't know, sometimes she did.

She rolled her head and opened her eyes. "Are you okay?"

This time she knew. Bucky hated when she knew. He hated to admit he was plagued with visions of murder and torture. "Yea." He hated himself then. Guilt ate at him, misery. He felt as if he was in a black hole, drowning. Jemma was there though, and he wanted to grab onto her, remember that there was something good, but he feared pulling her down with him, tainting her.

"Come back to bed," she said with a yawn and patted the mattress.

He was reluctant, but he was selfish too, and he knew he needed her. Bucky walked over to the dresser and pulled out a shirt, the other one was tossed to the side in the bathroom. 

"Leave it, come on."

He held it in his hand unsurely. Even after months of sharing a bed with her his left arm still troubled him. Bucky dropped the shirt reluctantly and moved for the bed. He was a killer, ruthless and cruel. Then at times he felt like the weakest human being ever. That's what he felt at the moment as he crawled into bed, wrapped his right arm around her waist, and settled his head on her chest. As her fingers slid into his hair he released a shuddered breath. 

"You can tell me Bucky," she whispered in the darkness. "It's not something you need to hide from me."

"I know," he responded. But how could he explain the memories of being a cold, ruthless killer and being submissive to such terrible people for so long, never able to think for himself. That he was used, abused, and put away until needed again. He released another shaky breath as the emotions again began to choke him. Her hand slid over his arm.

"Then why can't you?" She asked, almost seemed to plead with him.

"I-I..." Bucky considered telling her all of the things that made him feel terrible, that left him ridden with guilt and incomplete. At night, when it was quiet, when it was dark, he found himself back there, filled with fear.

"It's okay, I'm sorry."

It wasn't until she uttered those words did he realize he'd begun to panic. Bucky closed his eyes and turned his face into the soft rise of her chest. On a mission Bucky never panicked. He could focus, get in and get out. It was as if he was programmed that way now. When there wasn't a mission he felt lost, alone, weak. Bucky was aware of his own strength, but that didn't stop him from clinging to Jemma as if he was a child.

"I love you."

"What?" He asked suddenly, his eyes popping open and his breath catching in his throat.

"I was scared to say it, but I ultimately I think you needed to hear it."

He released her then and pushed himself up off her body to look down at her. In the dim light he could see the concerned wrinkle of her brow and the way her eyes flickered over him. One hand still lingered on his arm, the other had slid to settle across the back of his neck.

"You don't have to say anything, I just-."

"Jesus christ Jemma, of course I love you," he said suddenly as her voice began to stutter and he could hear the hesitancy in it.

"You do?" She asked, slightly surprised and looked up at him unsurely.

He wanted to say it should have been him questioning her. Why would this perfectly normal, smart, beautiful women love him. Bucky, though, he'd loved her for to long. He didn't think for a minute that she had loved him as long as he had her, because he'd noticed her before she'd ever seen him. Bucky had always been further ahead of her. When she'd offered him friendly smiles he wanted to kiss her. When she finally let him kiss her he hadn't wanted to let her go. No, there were a lot of things she didn't understand about him, and he was realized then that he hadn't understood things about her either, because he couldn't fathom her loving him. They would have to talk, he would have to explain himself, but it wasn't going to be that night. 

"Of course I do," he said finally and looked down on her one final moment before bringing his lips down to hers."


End file.
